Would you like some cornflakes?

This morning when I was in the kitchen searching for my stash of cherry kool-aide, my mom said, "You know, yesterday was the 17th. I would have been married to your dad for 25 years." She said it so matter-of-factly I didn't even know how to reply.

It doesn't seem possible...

Has time moved so quickly? Sometimes I feel guilty for being content to live my life without him. I wish he were here but I'm still happy without him. It that some sort of disrespect to his memory? And sometimes I feel guilty that my heart doesn't grieve every time his name is mentioned...

Time is strange. I remember my parents together, they were young and happy... But today my dad would be 47 (and probably gray headed) and my mom is 43 and beginning to show the signs of a hard life. And they would be married 25 years. 25 years... There is  something wrong and... empty feeling about that. A 25th wedding anniversary is a big day. It's worthy of a celebration. It's a milestone! But it was just another stressful day and a terrible reminder to me how it could've been spent if had both parents.

It's shadow of some former life I had...